Tell Me
by GrandEclectus
Summary: Darien is having some revelations about his life and confronts the Official with his painful memories.


Tell Me  
  
The Invisible Man Meets His Past  
  
Author: Betsy Manning  
  
Fandom: Invisible Man (2000) Rating: PG-13. Angst. Sorry folks, not my usual funny ha ha stuff. Sequel to: nada Status: Complete Length: Aprox. 1900 words. E-me: betsybird27@hotmail.com Feedback: Sure. Disclaimers: These aren't my characters. The Invisible Man is the property of Stu Segall Productions and USA Cable Entertainment.  
  
Original situations Copyright 2003 by Betsy Manning Archive: Sure; just let me know so I can give you the latest version. Spoilers: None that I'm aware of. Again, I'm intuiting things about the show and so far I've had one helluva batting average for writing about things I haven't even seen yet! Synopsis: Fawkes is having some revelations about his life and confronts the Official with his painful memories. ------------------- Tell Me  
  
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"Tell me." Fawkes demanded simply as he swept into the Official's office.  
  
"Tell you what?" The Official looked over from the swath of papers strewn across his desk, his brow furrowed. It was dusk and orange stripes of sunlight finger-painted the room through the slats of the office blinds.  
  
"Tell me what I don't know. What I haven't already figured out. This picture. You knew my uncle." Darien shoved a picture he'd found in his Aunt's attic onto the stack of bureaucratic red tape. He'd seen it before, but something was clicking in his head and he wanted some answers.  
  
"Tell me." he said again.  
  
"Nothing much to tell." the Official said, putting up a false smile and still unruffled by his Agent's sudden demands for information about his past. He looked down and continued to make notes.  
  
"Don't lie to me." Darien stormed as he slapped papers to the floor. "I've had enough of that. How long has this project being going on and how long have you known that I'd be the guy?"  
  
"You've been watching 'The X-Files'." the Official snuffed.  
  
"I've been living 'The X-Files.' Why don't you just cut the crap right here and right now."  
  
"You won't care for it."  
  
"I already don't care for it. I many not 'need' to know, but I sure deserve to know." his voice softened.  
  
"I won't do or say anything that will make it difficult for you to fulfill your duties."  
  
Darien implored the older man with his eyes. The dreams and returning memories had been tearing him up inside.  
  
"Very well." he breathed. "What brought on this sudden interest?"  
  
"Oh no. Oh no you don't." Darien stood with arms across his chest. "You first! I'm waiting."  
  
The Official looked weary and sighed as he pushed some files away. Perhaps this confession would be good for his soul. He was old and wizened, yet he had chosen not to retire. This program had consumed his whole life and he felt it was his duty and obligation to continue to oversee every aspect of the project. He now stood at the summit of the culmination of his life's work, across from the man who bore the consequences of his dire deeds. He had an epiphany.  
  
Darien was right. It was only fair that he should know the truth. The Official had nothing to lose by confession and perhaps it would make Darien's life just a little easier. He hoped it would.  
  
Besides, his young charge was very smart and perceptive. He'd already figured it out. He might as well give him something else, something good before he went to his grave.  
  
"I'd really like to know, Darien. What triggered this inquiry?" he asked sincerely.  
  
"OK." he relented. "I've been thinking back on my life. I've had nightmares. I remembered some things that spooked me. Like.like there was a doctor.who used to come to my Aunt and Uncle's house. He used to come when I wasn't sick and give me shots. I thought everyone got those until I realized that wasn't true. Then I thought there was something wrong with me, so I never told any of my friends about it.  
  
"They told me the shots were vitamins, 'Charlie'!" he stated with emphasis on The Official's name.  
  
"I used to cry every time he gave me those shots. I still hate getting shots, even though that damn needle you got me hooked on is the thin line between me and my shadow.  
  
"Dammit, Borden! That was no damn Medical Doctor, was it?"  
  
The Official looked down for a moment of introspection. Darien was too smart for his own good. He could only hide truths from him for a short while. He often congratulated himself on his ability to manipulate his staff. They all had keen minds and possessed strong intuitive abilities, even Hobbes whose demeanor made him appear the fool. It was why they were all so valuable, but it made the Official's job that much harder when he needed to bend them to the greater good. Confession is good for the soul, but did he have a soul left?  
  
"From an early age we pegged your brother to be the Invisible Man, but he showed such promise. We knew he would be able to further your Uncle's research so we turned to you. You also demonstrated incredible talents."  
  
"You've known me all my life, haven't you?" The revelation, the thing he already knew was sinking into his bones. He was becoming receptive to this new and ugly fact of his life.  
  
Borden merely gave a slight nod of guilty admission.  
  
"It's one thing to do this to an adult, OK, I signed a paper. I let it happen. I had a choice; I could have gone to prison. But you started this when I was a helpless little kid!"  
  
"We knew we'd have to prepare your system to accept the gland. We knew that it would take your lifetime. The injections had to be administered during your early development.  
  
"When it seemed that you had turned to a life of crime, we felt that you were no longer a proper candidate. So you were passed over for the first procedure. We thought we had solved the problems of compatibility when we implanted Cole. We were wrong. That's when we re-targeted you."  
  
"I remember the first time.being held down." Darien continued, unwanted tears welling in his eyes. "I remember my Uncle holding me down and that doctor shoving a needle into my brain. It felt like it was the size of a metal rod. I screamed and screamed, but they wouldn't let me up. I hid in my room for three days." The memory stung like the needle did when it entered his young body. His earlier bravado had dissolved and now his arms entwined around his body in an unconscious hug.  
  
"I'm sorry." The Official put his face in his hands and remembered that moment. But, just as quickly, he regained his resolve. "It had to be done." he stated emphatically.  
  
Darien searched his memory. He tried to remember the men in the room when the searing pain split his young skull.  
  
"There was my Uncle, the "doctor" and another man, a quiet, serious man. I always saw that man only from a distance. He'd talk to my Uncle while my Aunt served him lemonade."  
  
He pulled his hand away from running it through his hair and slowly brought it down and pointed at Borden. "It was you. You were there when they did that to me!"  
  
Darien fell back a couple of steps with the realization of the memory.  
  
"Yes. I remember that first evening quite well. If I had backed off then, your body would have rejected the gland, and you would have ended up like Simon Cole."  
  
"Or maybe you just like torturing little boys."  
  
"Darien."  
  
"Maybe you just got off on hearing me scream." he accused.  
  
"Stop it! I never took any pleasure in any pain that you needed to go through. NEVER! I did my duty and I did what I had to do to further the development of the I-man Project."  
  
"And, I just got caught in the friendly fire."  
  
"You need to understand what was at stake. The research was initiated during the Cold War. In war, sacrifices are made."  
  
"So you sacrificed a small boy on the altar of war to appease the god of your ideals."  
  
"Difficult choices must be made. This project held. no, STILL holds great hope for mankind."  
  
"I was a CHILD!" he shook. Realizations were washing over him in waves of pain and anger.  
  
Darien continued. "How can you preach to me about duty and sacrifice when you compromise the very thing you pretend to fight for. If no child is safe in America, then aren't you just as bad as the big bad "Reds" or the big bad Arabs or whoever is on the bad guy list for this decade!"  
  
"Darien, I have not spent my career terrifying small children." he insisted emphatically.  
  
"Oh just me."  
  
"Unfortunately, yes, as a matter of fact, you were the only one to complete the treatments."  
  
"Lucky me."  
  
"Actually, I think so. You represent an amazing accomplishment for man and science. You're the first man on the Moon, a pioneer of man's accomplishments. Your innate and science-bestowed abilities make you indispensable in the fight for freedom and justice. Many lives have been saved and many more will be saved by your actions, directly or indirectly.  
  
"I can't change the die that has been cast. I can't alter this fact in your life. But, you can accept the gifts handed to you and use them to benefit many people.  
  
"You've gotten quite close to Hobbes, haven't you?"  
  
"What of it? What did you do to him when he was a boy? Are you the reason he is like he is?"  
  
"If by that you mean gainfully and usefully employed? Having a friendship with a good man like yourself? Proud of his work and life? He could be in a mental institution, but instead he's working at a job he loves with people he cares about. He would have been a casualty of his problems and cast aside. Instead, his skills and talents are put to use for his country and for this project.  
  
"Yes, Hobbes has been through some bad times, but he's a good man. I had him pegged as your partner, hand picked."  
  
"Well, Mr. Puppetmaster, you gave me a little friend. You must be really proud! You just love pulling the strings that make our lives go round and round, don't you?"  
  
He had undeniably gotten close to Hobbes; they were compadres. The idea that Hobbes had been handed to him for this purpose made the hair on his arms stand up and his stomach queasy. There was no breaking his bond with Hobbes, not even with this recent knowledge. They had chosen very, very well. He could almost feel grateful.  
  
Now he understood that The Agency had reached inside his life and set him and his friend up like a manikins in a store window. Hobbes of course had also been manipulated. It was creepy and this knowledge chafed salt in an open wound.  
  
"I am proud of my life and accomplishments. I don't regret my choices. If I had the choice, I would have never caused you any pain or fear. I'm not happy about the side effects of the gland. That wasn't in the blue print, but we deal with it, don't we?"  
  
"Tell me straight. Did you have anything to do with the death of my parents?"  
  
"Absolutely not! Darien, I am not a monster!"  
  
"Yeah, well tell that to my wounded inner child."  
  
Abruptly the conversation had ended. Nothing more could be said. Had anything really changed? Darien had come to accept some things that he'd already known in his heart.  
  
Well past sundown, the only light in the room was the small desk lamp that illuminated the Official's face. It cast a giant black Official-shaped shadow over the foolish Fish and Game emblem. The old man looked very worn and deflated, but he felt a weight had been lifted. This once hidden truth was one less burden he'd have to hide from Fawkes.  
  
Darien found himself stumbling out of the office in a daze. The blackness enveloped him as he stepped outside the Harding Building and into the night.  
  
fin 


End file.
